


lips built for the lingering

by ktlsyrtis



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, pre-episode 'Glass Houses'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 00:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13846563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/pseuds/ktlsyrtis
Summary: Written for the Berena NSFW ficathon; prompt 'kissing (naked)'





	lips built for the lingering

**Author's Note:**

> _A kiss slow and soft,_  
>  _lips built for the lingering;_  
>  _stay, just stay right here._  
>  -Tyler Knott Gregson

“Bernie?”

Her only response is a distracted hum, and she returns to the task at hand, pressing her lips once more against Serena’s.

It’s early, the first weak rays of winter sunlight barely piercing the dim of the bedroom to reach them where they’re curled together in the cocoon of Serena’s spectacularly comfortable bed. They woke up like this, foreheads practically touching, legs still intertwined, naked bodies pressed close. Bernie barely needed to move to bring their mouths together, felt the moment Serena awoke with a murmur and began kissing her back.

“Bernie,” Serena tries again, the word muffled by the movement of Bernie’s mouth against her own. Bernie frowns at the interruption, just on the cusp of memorizing the exact texture of Serena’s lips, the soft curve of them fresh from sleep, the way they mesh seamlessly against her own.

Her frown deepens as Serena pulls back, and Bernie can’t help but follow, the press of Serena’s hand against her sternum the only thing that stops her.

“Bernie, you have to go to work.”

“No,” Bernie says, curling her fingers around Serena’s and moving her hand out of the way so she can close the final inches between them, Serena’s answering chuckle muted by Bernie’s mouth.

“One of us has to go to work, darling, and it’s my day off.” Serena’s voice is little more than a husky whisper, vibrating through Bernie to settle in her chest.

“What if I’d rather stay here kissing you?” 

Forestalling Serena’s response by capturing her mouth again, Bernie teases her tongue against the seam of her lips until Serena opens to her with a whimper. She tightens her grip, settling Serena even closer against her; the friction of their skin, nipples pebbling as they brush together, makes her body flush with heat.

She thinks she could stay like this forever, as she languidly licks into Serena’s mouth, exploring her, tasting her. Everything they do together is spectacular, but there’s something about this intimacy, the press of Serena’s body, the softness of her lips, the sounds she makes, that Bernie can never get her fill of.

Eventually they have to break apart for breath, both panting slightly, lips glistening and kiss swollen. Serena’s eyes are dark, her hair mussed, cheeks flushed, her tongue unconsciously flicking out against her bottom lip. She looks utterly ravaged and desire flares hot in Bernie, her fingers digging harder into Serena’s skin.

“No!” Serena squirms out of her grip, scooting back across the bed, chill morning air filling the space between them. Bernie can’t help but pout at the loss, peering at Serena through her sleep-tangled fringe. “Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, Berenice. You have to get ready for work.”

Their eyes stay locked for a series of heartbeats, a contest of wills in the face of the magnetism that is always there between them. Bernie relents with a huff, blonde strands flying about her face. 

“Fine. You’re no fun at all.”

Serena laughs, rich and low, catching Bernie’s hand and bringing it to her lips. “That’s not what you said last night.” She softly kisses Bernie’s knuckles, the sensation skittering along her arm, making her heart pound.

“You’re not helping,” Bernie groans.

Pressing a final kiss to her fingers, Serena releases her hand. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She tugs back the duvet, the onrush of cold air raising goosebumps on Bernie’s skin. “Go on, soldier. Save some lives.”

Sitting up with a sigh, Bernie swing her legs onto the floor and levers herself against the mattress to stand. She stretches her arms above her head, presses up on her toes to work the kinks out of her muscles, smirking at the pained whimper she hears behind her.

“Oh Bernie?” She turns back, sees Serena lounging in the bed, the duvet bunched around her waist in a display of curves and skin that has Bernie thanking gods she doesn’t believe in. “When you get home, you’re welcome to kiss me all you like.”


End file.
